Waffles
by Weskette
Summary: Chris wakes up late one night in order to sate his partner's cravings.


**Waffles**

"Chris." Chris opened his eyes sleepily. His partner, the infamous Jill Valentine, sat crosslegged on his stomach. "Are you awake?"

He sighed, or at least, tried to. It was a little difficult to with her there, even with how light she was."Yeah, Jill. I'm awake."

"I can't sleep and I'm bored."

Chris let his body go limp, his head falling back on the pillow."And what am I supposed to do about it?"

She splayed her hands on his chest, looking down at him. "Entertain me. Tire me out. Something."

He sighed and lay still. "And...?"

"I'm hungry." She shifted and lay across him.

He wrapped his arms around her. "What do you want?"

"... I don't know."

"Then I can't make you it, if you don't know." She pressed her face against his neck and murmured something he didn't understand."What?"

"Make me food," she said, pulling her face away from him. She rested her forehead on his and closed her eyes. "I'm hungry."

He kissed her and sat up, shifting her into his lap. "What food do you want?" he asked gruffly.

"... Waffles."

"You want waffles at two in the morning?" he asked slowly. She bit her lip and nodded quickly, wide, blue eyes directed at his. "Why did I let you move in again?"

"Because you have a spare bedroom, I needed a place to live and... I think there's one more I'm forgetting..." She smirked and pretended to think on it. He filled it in for her.

"Because you're my partner and I love you," he said, rolling his eyes.

She chuckled. "No wonder I sleep more often in your room than mine." Their unofficial official relationship (where they were together, even though their job didn't allow it) let them have free reign over each other's rooms, though, as Jill had said, they occupied his more often. Her room was more just for show. To fool their work into thinking they were simply room mates.

He kissed her again and motioned for her to stand. "C'mon. I have waffles to make."

"Yay!" She stood and pulled him up. He noticed what she was wearing.

"Is that one of my T-shirts?" He stepped back and looked at her. He could tell she wasn't wearing a bra, and the shirt only fell to about mid-thighs. It was just a simple white BSAA shirt, the insignia over the left breast.

She smiled and watched as his eyes traveled slowly down her body. "Yeah. You don't mind, do you? My pajamas are in the wash."

"Looks better on you than me." He followed her into the kitchen. "Waffles, right?" he spoke as he opened the cupboard.

"Mhmm."

"I can't find the waffle mix." He continued to shift things around in the cupboard.

She rolled her eyes and reached into the cupboard, pulling out the box he had been searching for. "Here. In front of your face."

He thanked her and began to mix together ingrediants in a bowl. Jill watched as he did it and sat on the counter behind him. She was silent for a few minutes before commenting on his attire. "Why are you wearing a shirt?"

"What?" He glanced back at her as he grabbed the waffle iron out of the pantry.

"You're wearing a shirt. You usually just sleep in your boxers." She reached over and pinched the fabric between her fingers. It was a thin shirt not unlike the one she was wearing of his. It was drastically different from his boxers, which were black. She slipped off the counter and snaked her hands up the back of his shirt, splaying her fingers out on his back, beneath the fabric. He shivered.

"Your hands are cold. And I don't know why I wore a shirt. I do it every once in a while. Usually on colder nights." Jill huffed and tugged the item of clothing up. "What are you doing?" He dropped the spoon he had been stirring the mix with. She pulled the shirt up, over his head and discarded it on the floor.

"That's better."

"Jill, I'm cold now," Chris complained, sighing.

"Just make me some waffles," she ordered, turning him towards the counter and hugging him from behind. He tensed at the feeling of her breasts pressed against him through only the shirt she was wearing. "C'mon." She guided his hands, helping him pour the batter into the maker.

As soon as the iron was closed and the timer set, he turned and pinned her back against the opposite counter. His lips found hers greedily. She smiled into it, wrapping her arms around her neck and pulling him deeper into it. The kiss lasted until the timer dinged and he had to pull away. "Your waffle is done," he pointed out.

She went to the fridge and took out whip cream. He handed her the waffle on a plate. "Share it with me." She covered it in whipcream. "And," she paused, scooping up some onto her pointer finger. "I'll share something else with you." She licked the whipcream off her finger and winked at him.

All at once, the plate she held was shoved onto the table and he claimed her mouth once more. He could taste the remnants of whipcream in her mouth and wished she'd forget the waffle and just continue with him. His wish wasn't granted when she pulled away and giggled when he said, "I wish you'd crave waffles more often."


End file.
